


Respite

by thingswithwings



Category: Miracles - Fandom
Genre: Chromatic Character, Episode Tag, Family, Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, recipient:Melody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alva, Paul, and Evelyn on a day when nothing happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

"So, no strange visitations?" Paul asks, cautiously.

Alva pokes at the noodles, his chopsticks clicking together. "Nope," he says.

Paul glances at Evelyn. Evelyn shrugs.

"No stigmata, no messages from God?"

"Phone hasn't rung once," Evelyn mumbles around a mouthful of eggroll. "Alva, did you take any messages from God?"

"I didn't," Alva assures her.

"No possessions, no near-death experiences, no out-of-body experiences, no predictive visions?" Paul takes a seat next to Alva, the old wooden chair creaking comfortably as he sits.

"None," Evelyn says.

"It's a quiet day, Paul." Alva says, smiling, pushing a cardboard carton across the desk towards him. "Have some chicken."

Paul pokes cautiously at the chicken. Kung Pao. It looks good.

He takes a few bites as Alva flips through the newspaper with his left hand, as Evelyn fiddles with the new police scanner that she managed to acquire last week. Eventually, he can't keep quiet any longer.

"So what do we do?" He sounds more plaintive than he intended.

Alva laughs and tosses his chopsticks into the now-empty carton. Then he bends over, his face shining with affection, and grabs Paul by the back of the neck, kisses him firmly on the top of his head with a little _mwah_ sound. Paul smiles, almost against his will. Evelyn catches his eye and she smiles, too.

"We relax," Alva says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "We recuperate. We take a step back and survey the land."

"Oh yeah, what land is that?" Paul arches an eyebrow, taking another bite of chicken.

"There are many landscapes to explore," Alva ruminates. "We could always discuss Evelyn's love life, for instance."

"Not unless you want to die a messy and painful death," Evelyn mutters absently. Her attention is on the scanner.

Alva shrugs. "In that case, there's nothing else for it." He reaches into the desk drawer and pulls out a chess set. "White or black?" he asks.

"You play white," Paul says, almost immediately, almost as if he's been expecting the question. "You always play white."

Alva's fingers hesitate over the chess pieces, only for a moment; then he changes his mind, and reaches out, and his hand slides over Paul's neck to his shoulder, where it rests, warm and solid. Paul is reminded of the day before yesterday, Alva's arms around him, warming him through the blanket. He thought he'd never get warm, then.

"We'll take as long as you need," Alva says, in that strange serious way that he has. Paul glances down, embarrassed.

"Okay," he says. Alva nods, and pulls his hand back slowly, and sets up the chess pieces, white and black.

  



End file.
